Try Once More
by NotAnotherEmoPenName
Summary: Something broken cannot be replaced...but it may be mended. That which is fixed might not entirely be. Everyone deserves a second chance, don't you think? Even if they don't think so. CHAPTER TEN NOW UP. Reviews would mean so much, please!
1. Dreams Come True

_**Note:**_ _OK- this is my first Phantom story, and I'm pulling reference from the two books and the musical. For the sake of the story, I went with my first impression from the musical that the story took place in the early 1800s (even though I know now that's not true) so this story will be taking place in 1879. I wasn't too sure about the first few chapters and the characters may seem a bit 2-D, but it gets better after the first few chapters. I don't own Phantom of the Opera as this is not my perfect little world…sigh. Without further ado- let the show begin!_

**Try Once More**

My skirts swirled around me in circles as I spun around on the vast, empty stage in the even larger grand auditorium. The history of the place overwhelmed me and made me feel no larger than an ant in the whole scheme of life. My legs kept me spinning until I bumped into who I'd been waiting for.

"Oh, Thomas, it's beautiful, isn't it?" I exclaimed as I looked up into his face, acting like a child in a candy store.

"Yes, it's rather nice. You really like it, don't you?" he smiled

"Oh, I haven't been here since I was a little girl! How I would love to be here every day…" I sighed.

"I bought it."

I couldn't believe my ears for a moment, "B-bought it?" I repeated dumbly, "Bought t-this opera house? The Opera P-populaire?" Thomas just smiled and nodded, waiting for me to say something.

"Oh my God!" I shrieked, jumping around in excitement, "Oh my God, Thomas! Did you really? That's amazing! That's wonderful! Oh my God! I don't know what to say! This is…so cool!" In my happiness I let slip an American term I learned when I lived there, a term most Europeans would probably find juvenile.

"Now, now, relax. A lady should always be composed and proper, I told you that." Thomas reprimanded. I got used to this kind of thing by now, just because he had connections to the royal bloodline in Britain he made me feel like a doll by telling me what a woman should and shouldn't do…can and can't do. Still, he loved me and I was lucky to be in my position, as I have been reminded may times.

And so I just plastered on a smile and said, "Yes, Thomas".

"You're going to be part of the company, as well." He told me.

"How would that possible work? I asked skeptically. Goodness knows I don't have my grandmother's great talent, a talent that earned her much fame and attention. It hurt me, because this is a talent I've wanted more than anything, and yet… well, at least I had a talent that granted me a name as well.

"Well, you can play the piano at the operas, and they'll be doing plays now and again, you could audition for those." He reasoned.

"Actually, I'd prefer to audition to be part of the company, if it's all the same to you, and..." I started hesitantly, "can I help you manage the Opera?"

At this, he chuckled and kissed me lightly on the forehead, "Dear, you know women are no good at matters of business, and alright, then be here at ten tomorrow morning, there already is another manager, I'm just the owner, everyone else in the company is the same. You'll audition in front of him."

I 'smiled' again and bade him goodbye, then left for my carriage outside.

On the ride home, I sat and wondered about what I would do tomorrow, it's best to play one of my own compositions; maybe they would even let me write scores for the operas. I couldn't believe that my dream would come true just like this, pianist (and maybe even part-time actress!) at the Paris Opera House! I also decided on doing a monologue from _**Romeo and Juliet**_, I'd have to look at the play when I get home…

I remembered vividly how Grandmother took me to the Opera when she went for visits when I was young, she being too old to sing there anymore, I remember her friend, Madame Meg Debeu, formerly Giry, kept telling me to call her 'Auntie Meg'. I wonder if she's still dance mistress there… she was years younger than Grandmother, so she must be.

Music is the most important thing to me in this world, and my piano is how I can feel part of it. My long fingers, I was once told, were _made_ for piano playing…imagine my luck!

"Mademoiselle? Excuse me…"

A voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see the driver holding his hand out to help me get down- we were in front of my apartment.

When I got inside I lit a few oil lamps and stopped to pet my gray and black tabby, Inconnu. He is always looking for attention, that mischievous kitten! When I started to walk away he used his claws and attached himself to the skirt of my dress, making me drag him along across the floor of my home until I realized what he did, and laughing, picked him up and sat him down next to him on the piano bench.

I decided on playing my newest composition, _âme_. It was beautiful, in my opinion. Afterwords, I selected Juliet's monologue to recite in front of the manager.

After hours of practice, my weary head crashed down onto the pillow and I fell asleep heavily, after arranging my clock to wake me up at eight in the morning, tomorrow.

_**Author:**_ _That's all folks! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter; comments are very welcome to my encouragement and help or suggestions, but not necessary to your survival._

_**Erik:**_ _Where do I fit in here?_

_**Author:**_ _Patience, please._


	2. The Audition

**_A/N:_** _So sorry about taking nearly two months to update, I've had theatre and fencing to juggle...very difficult, my friends. Anyway, on to the story which I own nothing copyrighted in!_

The rays of the morning sun shone through my eyelids, forcing me to wake up. I checked the time- nine fifteen. _Crap!_ I scrambled as fast as I could into a blue satin dress and pulled my curly hair back with a matching headband, took my score, grabbed my monologue, and apologized to Inconnu for tripping over him and scaring him half to death on my way out the door. It's a beautiful day outside, and it's only 9:40...I decided to walk to the Opera House.

I found myself waiting backstage, nervousness flooding my body while I watched dancers and chorus girls strutting about, up to their day-to-day buisness.

_What am I worried about?_ I thought to myself,_ You're wonderful, Elizabeth, you'll do fine. In piano, at least..._

"May I help you, Madmoiselle?" I turned to see a man, a portly man about my height (not very impressive in the least); he was wearing small, round glasses perched on the very tip of his nose, shrinking his eyes to maybe the size of peas, and all this gave him the appearance of a mole in a bright red jacket.

_Don't you laugh! This is important, Liz!_

"Hello, my name is Elizabeth de Chagny, I believe Monsieur Black set up and audition for me to-"

"Oh dear me, yes! Monsieur Black? You must be his..oh of course...a de Chagny on top of it! Raoul, the late vicomte, I believe? Yes, it must be...and he was married to...oh what a legacy you have here!" he squeaked, jumping up excitedly.

_Don't laugh..._

I smiled instead. "Correct, Monsieur."

"Right...this way, then." he answered, more professionally this time. He led me to a room with a gold sign on the door reading "Manager: J. LeNieve" I guess that was him.

He sat me down at a desk and asked me my former work.

"Well," I answered, "I apprenticed to David Marchovic, the international pianist, for about seven years, I left to pursue other things about four months ago. I played with him in a few concerts the last four years, and I had a few small ones myself, I wrote my own compositions, you see. As for the acting... my grandmother, the late Christine Daae, used to give me lessons almost every day."

"Impressive...may I ask your age?"

"Three and Twenty, Monsieur LeNieve."

"And such a young age! Well, please begin."

There was a small piano in the corner of the room I hadn't previously noticed. I set down my score, took a deep breath, and let music take its course through me. When I finished, I didn't wait for him to say anything, but rather stated,

"Now, if I may, I will be reading one of Juliet's monologues from Shakespeare's **_Romeo & Juliet_**.

_  
"What if it be a poison, which the friar  
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,  
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,  
Because he married me before to Romeo?  
I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,  
For he hath still been tried a holy man.  
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,  
I wake before the time that Romeo  
Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!  
Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,  
To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,  
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?  
Or, if I live, is it not very like,  
The horrible conceit of death and night,  
Together with the terror of the place,--  
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,  
Where, for these many hundred years, the bones  
Of all my buried ancestors are packed:  
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,  
Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,  
At some hours in the night spirits resort;--  
Alack, alack, is it not like that I,  
So early waking, what with loathsome smells,  
And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,  
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:--  
O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,  
Environed with all these hideous fears?  
And madly play with my forefather's joints?  
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?  
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,  
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?  
O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost  
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body  
Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!  
Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee."_

I put nearly everything into that. I actually managed to draw from myself a few tears. I stood anxeously awaiting my judgement.

"Well, well, well...I daresay you have talent, young lady, you would make an excellent edition to the company. Come by my office later to get latest score- two and a half weeks until the debut."

_Yes, yes, yes!_

"Alright, Monsieur, thank you, Monsieur!" I answered.

Wait...could she still be here?

"Excuse me, sir, before you leave, could you tell me...is Madame Giry Debeu still ballet mistress?"

"She is, why?"

"Could-could you ask her to come here? She's an old friend of mine. zoh, and don't tell her it's me, please."

"Oh, well...alright then..." he answered, exiting. Oh, happy day! I felt like I was home again. I remembered how people were forced to be nice to me because I was the ex-diva's granddaughter, but now...I _work_ here! I remembered how people used to tease me, saying the Opera Ghost would come back and get me if I didn't behave, how Grandmother would admonish them! Well, to be honset, I never behaved, so I had long since stopped believing in that. I, like everone else, believe that he had died years ago, yet I felt a certain pity for him. But still, what was mean to be was meant to be.

The doorknob twisted. I stood still, smiling.

"Hello, Auntie Meg". I beamed. She stood frozen for a moment, then slowly looked happier and happier.

"Oh, my dear!" She cried, hugging me. "Elizabeth de Chagny, I never thought I'd see you here again!"

"And why not?" I teased.

"Well, it's just that, since you moved to America, and then I heard of your piano skills and the concerts!

"Yes, that's why I work here now! I am the pianist! My fiance set up an audition for me and I passed!"

"Fiance? When? How?"

"You see... he owns the Opera House now."

"What?"

"He heard me play at one of my concerts, he told me he fell in love with me then and there! He even went all the way up to Russia to hear me play again! An English gentleman, Lord, I think the title is, by the name of Thomas Blacke. Oh, he is a saint...when I listen to him." I shrugged.

" What do you mean, when you listen to him? You never listen to anyone! Are you sure-"

"Yes, yes, Auntie, I'm sure! He loves me, I know it! And I love him!"

"Well...alright. Oh my, how you've grown! Such a pretty loung lady!" She looked me over and I, in turn looked at her. She hadn't changed much, her face a bit more lined and her blonde hair flecked with gray, but she had the same warm, dancing brown eyes. "You know, you haven't been here in a while, how would you like a tour?"

"I'd like that very much!" I answered. And so we both walked out the door into the vast kingdom that again became my home.

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**_A/N:_** _Again, sorry for the long time no update. I planned everything out, Erik comes out in the fourth chapter. Reviews and anything else are welcome! Thanks for reading!_


	3. The Room

_**A/N:** Don't own anything._

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I could almost see the little girl of over thirteen years ago wandering about, reveling in the magic of the music and color. Today, I was the young woman of the present following her guide through a vast empire.

"Here is the orchestra pit, there is a trap door under here where you will be playing, and over there is where the actors get makeup done, and to the left is the costume design..." Auntie Meg was pointing out so many different places I would probably never remember, and I was surprised at how much I had forgotten. It also made me sad, in a way.

"Do you remember this, Liz?" I snapped out of my thoughts only to see an old room, though sizable indeed.

_This is...this is..._

"Grandmother's..."

"Yes."

"She never used to let me in here...all she said was that He might be watching us...is this really her room? Is this really where it all happened?"

"It is."

There was a moment of silence where I was awestruck. I laid my eyes on the mirror, edging closer to it, until my face was pressed against the glass. Maybe...

"Elizabeth! Don't do that!" Meg scolded. pulling me away from it.

"Can this room...can it be mine?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, clean it up, bring in a piano...it could be my work room, plus I could also get a bed for late nights of work. Oh, please, Auntie, nothing would make me happier!"

"Well...it isn't my decision, ask the manager, your fiance...I wouldn't want you to-"

"Oh, I have to! Please!"

"You haven't changed at all, Madmoiselle de Chagny!" she teased. "Let us get on."

And so we walked, me with a newfound excitement, into the ballet hall.

"Lizette!" Someone comes crashing into my arms. It took me a minute to recognize the clump of blonde hair and the bright green eyes.

"Daniela! Oh my goodness!" I responded, smiling at my old friend.

"I see you two remember each other", Meg smiled.

"Oh my gosh, what are you doing here?" she asked. I recounted everything I told to Meg, to which she listened eagerly. In turn, she told me how she herself remained at the Opera House, and is now head of Corps de Ballet.

"Dear, shouldn't you be getting back to your practice?" Meg cut in.

"Shouldn't you get back to teaching us?" Daniela teased.

"Oh, you two troublemakers will have plenty of time to get up to mischeif together. Go help out Arabel, she's new."

"Yes, Gramama."

And with that, Meg turned to me, "You'd best be getting back to Monsieur LaNieve's office, get your things together and I will see you tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Auntie!" She kissed me on both cheeks, and I made my way back to the room I started from.

There was a familiar face inside.

"Thomas!" I greeted, running to him.

"How did you do?" he asked.

"I'm part of the company now! My Grandmother's best friend, Meg Debeu, she is the ballet mistress and her granddaughter Daniela is here too! She's head of the Corps de Ballet! Oh, it's so wonderful, it's amazing! I'm so happy!"

"Calm down." he admonished, and I fell silent. "Now I'm glad you are here now, and I am glad that you are this happy. But you must not embarass me, understand?"

I nodded.

"Good."

"Thomas..." I began hesitantly, "May I have a room here? An office, if you will. You know, to work. And if i work late, well I'd like a bed just in case as well."

"You know perfectly well that if you have no where else to live-"

"-Yes, yes, but...oh, please! I'd love it ever so much it would be wonderful! Please!"

"A proper lady does. Not. _Beg_."

" I apologize, Thomas. May I have a rooom? You can take a quarter of my salary off each month as rent, if you would like."

"Well...alright, if you insist. I'll find a vacant one-"

"-I already did. The old diva's room, it's a bit dusty now, but it used to belong to my grandmother, it would be just so amazing."

"If you wish. I'll have the help clean it out and let you know when it's all ready."

"Oh, and...please don't remove _anything_. Just cleaning."

"Women and their pickyness..."

"Thank you!"

_First I get a job...and now I actually live here!_

I packed my things and went home, preparing for my first day of work tomorrow.

As the following day progressed, I learned that I had many subjobs to do as well. I assited during practices as well as rehearsals, and when it wasn't that I was helping some of the other musicians as well, apparently I am now the head of the musical department. I had no problems with that whatsoever. My lunch I would spend wiht Daniela, gossiping about the goings on of the cast and crew. My days were pretty routine, but I was quite happy.

"Your room will be ready by tomorrow, bring your things.

"Bring your things tomorrow, your room will be ready" Thomas told me one day. And so, that day when I went home I took neccesities such as clothes and Inconnu and his kitty things and left. I knew it was only supposed to be a scarce arrangment, but there was no harm in breaking it in for a week or two, was there?


	4. The Rose

_**A/N:** If I have any readers, I'll thank you for being patient with me, I don't have much time on my hands to update, and I also apologize for the horrible grammar and/or spelling in the last chapter, one cannot do much at two in the early morning. Without further ado, chapter four! I don't own anything._

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It was as if I had stepped back in time, into the room of a lavish diva. There was a desk which I populated with various products of mine, across from the large, ornate mirror. A window opened onto the street behind the Opera House, which I knew at night would be crawling with various wretches and drunks. I had brought in a small bookshelf, crammed with some of my books, and I was glad to see a four-poster in the corner next to a dresser, and a small wall-piano in the other corner. There was a smaller, round little table next to the bed which i know must have been there before, for it looked so antique.

It was not, however, the table which intrigued me, it was what was on the table.

There, on the table were the dried up, forgotten remains of a rose, tied with a faded black ribbon.

My heart skipped a beat. I was positive it was all true, but now, this here, is proof. A shiver creeped up my spine.

_ Don't you worry, he's probably long gone by now. At least, I didn't hear anything of him...but Meg...she spoke of him as if he was still haunting the place..._

I shook the feeling off. It would take a lot more than a legend to scare me. I've fought people off before...I could take a spectre. I was afraid to move the rose, it is still beautiful, in a sad way... I changed, crawled into the bed, and extinguished the light of my new room.


	5. The First Encounter

**_A/N:_** I do not own Phantom.

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I crashed into the chair, brushing my brown locks furiously. I still see those ballet girls in the back of my mind, heard their haughty voices.

_"Have you heard? She's with the new owner, that's the only reason she's here…no talent…"_

_"They are starting to show plays here now, watch her get every lead…"_

_"…Non of her legendary grandmother's talent…no talent…poser…"_

My God, I didn't know gossip was this vicious. I swear, the next person to piss me off will regret it severely, I almost feel _sorry_ for them!

**New POV**

* * *

Nothing in this world matters anymore…it hasn't for over thirty years. For myself, it's as if time itself has stopped, keeping me in limbo and not granting me the honor of laying down to die, as unwanted and miserable as when I came into this cruel world. Suicide? No…it's the coward's way out, the way out for the weak.

I kept the manager under my ever looming leash, got my annual salary, and kept up my image in the Opera. I didn't care what was happening anymore, the only other rule I had made was that no one was to use the Diva's room…no one… Otherwise, the feeling has evaporated out of my body, I was a mere shell.

_Today…today…_ Today was the anniversary of when Christine first discovered her 'Angel of Music'.

I made my way down my old passage and I saw a light shining at the end. I didn't know what to make of it, but surely I would be angry soon.

A woman was sitting at Her old desk. A small frame with a mane of brown curls.

_Could it be…no, of course not…but what…it might…_

In a moment of dumbstruck numbness I abandoned all caution and stepped through the mirror.

"Christine?" I whispered hoarsely.

The moment she turned around my hopes plummeted. Her overall appearance was that of Christine, everything…but the eyes. Christine's were a clear, dazzling blue. This girl's were a very peculiar shade of grayish-green. They were calculating, intelligent, as opposed to the innocent, childlike ones of Her.

"Who are you?" I demanded angrily.

The calculating look turned to one of determined haughtiness which mirrored her tone when she answered, "My name is Elizabeth Christine Antoinette de Chagny. My fiancé owns this Opera."

"No one owns this Opera House but me!" I snarled. How dare they? She was most likely just another out-of-tune chorus girl with connections. That dolt of a manager would be hearing from me. I realized that in my anger I had stepped forward quite a bit, and so I turned and started toward the mirror again.

Before I even took a step, something hit me and I fell, yes, I _fell_ to the ground! _That brat was on top of me! _I was angry and embarrassed, if I had been on my guard it surely would never have happened.

"Get off me, you idiotic child!" I yelled, banging my fists. I felt something digging into my shoulder blades, rendering me immobile.

_The little demon!_

"You barge into _my_ room, asking _me_ questions, raising your voice? Monsieur, I have had a very bad day- who the hell do you think you are?"

"Who am I? The Phantom of the Opera, known to many as the Opera Ghost" I stated darkly.

"I knew it…Grandmother told me about you… are you truly a monster?"

Grandmother…Christine…it was almost too much for me to bear. Also, if the child heard I was a monster, why must she ask me herself, if she was so smart?

"I have never harmed a woman," I started, maybe a threat would get through to her stubborn skull, "but if you do not get off of me this minute, I may have to change that. You understand? Get the hell off!"

"You don't scare me." She replied, though she finally climbed off, yet her next action caught me completely off-guard.

_She offered me her hand._

I don't need help from anyone. I shrugged away from her and stood up on my own, then faced her. I was even more ashamed of being tackled by her. I discovered that I positively towered over the de Chagny girl, over a head and a half taller than her. She fixed me with a look of all the bravery I believed she could muster. It was almost humorous. Almost.

"I'll have you know, Monsieur Phantom, fear is _not_ in my vocabulary!"

'Perhaps, but it is in your eyes."

And on that dark note, I 'disappeared' again through the mirror.

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**_A/N:_** I hope you guys enjoyed it, there will be many more Erik filled chapters to come. Reviews and/or criticisms will be much appreciated!


	6. The AfterShocks

**_A/N:_** I do not own anything but the OCs

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Elizabeth's POV

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I was rooted to the spot- not moving a muscle.

_What did I just do?_

The enormity of the last ten minutes washed over me, and before I knew it I collapsed onto the ground, tears wetting my cheeks. It was Him...it was actually Him...but how? Why didn't he kill me? And he thought I was...I was...

_Oh God..._

Do I tell someone? What would happen to me?

_No. I can't._

In my heart I knew I couldn't, yet the reason I just couldn't pinpoint. I went through them in my mind:

_Feeling bad for him?_

_Afraid for my life?_

_Who would believe me?_

None of them seemed quite the right reason, but for now, I just ran the situation through my mind over and over. I was able to tackle rough boys on the street, of course I had to learn to fend for myself, but I brought the Phantom of the Opera to the ground! Why did I offer to help him up in the first place? He could have cut off my hand...or worse...but he didn't. Maybe he wasn't as bad as everyone thought...

_What are you talking about? He's a monster! Everyone told you so! _

I'll try to keep my distance from him...if that's possible. If anything, well, Thomas would be notified.

One more thought came to my mind.

That moment, if it could be called so, it was hardly a second. We just...stared. At each other. Something happened in that moment, something strange.

_Who cares? It won't happen again!_

I'll just have to put it out of my mind...but these tears wouldn't stop.

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Erik's POV

* * *

_Idiot! Idiot, idiot, IDIOT! Why did you have to goand do that!_

That child is probably back telling all the ballet rats how she fought and nearly killed the infamous 'Phantom of the Opera'. How he was at her knees begging for mercy and how she, in all her kindness and humanity, let him go... Ten minutes and I ruined my intricate and secretive reputation. But still...she offered to help me up. Of course I didn't need it, but still. It was the first act of kindness I'd recieved in a long time.

She _asked_ me if everything she heard was true. She _asked_. And she knows _everything._ I don't know what to make of it, truly. But she's Christine's granddaughter! Her own flesh and blood! She looked like her, but she didn't.

_Who damn well cares!?_

Probably just a no-talent diva, anyway.

And yet...

_NO._

I was angry, confused, shaken...

Wait.

I was _angry. _I was _confused._ I was _shaken_!

I'm..._ emotional!_

I haven't felt any emotion in a long, long, time... until now. I suppose I should thank her...what's her name, Elizabeth, was it?

_Who. CARES._

Just as I was about to leave, I noticed her again. Crying. A twisted sort of triumph overcame me.

_Not as brave as she thought, eh?_

Yet I didn't knw exactly as I felt. What was this...was it guilt? Humor? Happiness?

_Ugh. Too many emotions for one day._


	7. The Discoveries

**_A/N:_** Hello, friends! I'd like to thank Fan of the Phantom for her encouraging reviews, so thanks! Also, I recently heard a song by the Rolling Stones called "You Can't Always Get What Your Want" that kind of reminded me of my story, so I'm wondering if I should change the title to that...what do you guys think? I do not own anything but the OCs

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Erik's POV

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"Remember me?"

Those were the first words I uttered in a long time to this little mole-of-a-manager. Of course, I'd make my presence known once in a while but nothing else. This occasion, however, called for it. He immediatly sprang out of his seat, his papers flying everywhere.

"W-w-who's there?!" he called.

"It is I, O.G. I am quite displeased with you, Monsieur."

"What? What have I done?"

"The diva's room. I requested it to remain empty. Did it? Well!?"

"N-no, Monsieur O.G. It did not. It is being occupied currently, but please, it has nothing to do with me! It was not me who did it!"

"Who, then?"

"The new owner."

"And where is he?" I was getting angrier and angrier with his lack of information.

"I do not know, he rarely comes!"

"Well, MAKE HIM!" I shouted, starling him even more.

_Annoying little spinless lump of flesh!_

With that, I again retreated back to the undeground, getting ready to write a little letter.

* * *

"Hm...still doesn't sound right."

I crossed out yet another note on my music sheet.

_What is wrong with you today? You're not five, you can write one simple piece!_

I was getting rather frustrated, nothing seemed to be working straight.

"Ughhh...'I think I'll write an opera!' what in the world was I thinking?" Just as I was about to scrap the paper, there was a knock at my door.

"Elizabeth? Madame Debeu wants to see you. She says it is urgent."

I opened my door to see one of the young boys that were here at the music portion of the opera house conservatory. Jean, his name is.

"Where is she, Jean?" I asked kindly.

"Let me show you." And with that, I followed the thirteen year old through the halls. I had met him on my first solo exploration of the place. He was a talented violinist for such an age, and when I asked him about himself he replied he came here two years ago, and that his parents had dies in a fire a few months previously. Since then I became a kind of friend to him, maybe you would call it a mentor if I behaved a bit more maturley...and _didn't_ give him ideas of jokes to pull on his teachers.

At last we arrived at the manager's office, yet he wasn't in there. Meg was, though.

"Thank you, young man," as she nodded him to exit, then turned back to me, "I must talk to you about something, Elizabeth. Something quite serious." Her smile faltered when he shut the door on his way out.

"What's the matter?" I asked her, concerned.

_Don't start. Calm down. Just wait._

"Did you by any chance...meet anyone here?"

"Yes, I've made friends."

"I meant...anyone strange...not normal...that you've perhaps...heard about?" I knew what she was getting at. My stomach sank like a stone and my hand invoulentarily flew to my mouth.

I voiced my thoughts, "How? How did you find-"

Just then I was caught in mid-sentence as Meg, looking me straight in the eye, held up a letter stamped with a black-rose seal. She offered it to me and I took it, opening it up and reading.

_Dear M. Manager,_

_I request your proffesional information on one Madmioselle de Chagny. I _

_would like to know what she does here, why she is here, and _

_I request an audience with the new owner. I must know why she is_

_housed in that particular room, and strongly suggest, for the good of my_

_opera house, that she be moved. We both know that this room must_

_remain empty for the duration of this being my opera house._

_your humble servant,_

_O.G._

"Please explain," she began slowly, "how He knows of you."

I explained everything that happened in my room and Meg was completely agitated, her eyes full of worry.

"Oh dear...oh my, this is not good. Listen to me, child, you must stay away from that room, avoid anywhere He might be-"

"_No_." I cut across her sharply, surprising even myself with the tone. "It was _my_ Grandmother's room and I will not leave just because of some stalker living in the walls! I can handle him if he ever comes near me again, not that he'd want to..." I again surprised myself with the dissapointment I heard in my own voice, though luckily Meg didn't catch it.

"Fine." she said, pursing her lips. "But if this starts all over again, oh God, I am too old for this!"

"Auntie Meg, please..." I pleaded, slightly guilty.

"Just...I must go. Stay safe, if anything happens, tell me."

"Yes, ma'am." I complied.


	8. The Information

**_A/N: _**Hello again! I'd fist of just like to say that I'm not sure yet but they won't have any more contact for a little while, but they will see each other, or at least, Erik will. We all know how he is. I only own the OCs

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Erik's POV

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I stood , leaning on the inside of Box 5's hollow pillar. I haven't been here for a while.

_You didn't have any reason to._

I let out a large sigh just as the door knob twisted. I held my breath, tense, until I heard a a voice speaking.

"Erik! I have been looking for you! Are you here?" Meg's voice rang out loudly and clearly.

"I am." I replied quietly, pushing the seemingly invisible trap door open and revealing myself.

"I must speak to you, and I will just get to the point. You stay away from Madmoiselle de Chagny, I don't know what you're planning but it can't be good. She's going to be living in Christine's old room-"

"Don't you say her name!" I interrupted, my heart giving an unpleasant jolt every time it was mentioned.

Regardless, Meg continiued, "And I aleady tried to get her not to, but she very much wants to for some reason!"

"So it's _her_ I need to talk to again." I thought out loud.

"No! She was like an adopted child to me, I care for her almost as much as for my own granddaughter. I'm too old for this to happen again, and she has a fiance-"

"Madame, you seem to be jumping to conclusions." I said cooly, "A creature such as me will always be alone, I know that. Also, I'm afraid I'll never love again, especially not some little, impudent no-talent brat with connections."

_Then why do you keep thinking about that night?_

_"_Erik," she said, a bit more gently now, "please. I know how much you loved her. I know how you felt. But taking everything out on her granddaughter won't help anything. She is gone. Time may heal you-"

"Never." I said coldly. If she was implying I forget Her, she is insaner than I am. She was my angel, my muse...

_And she hated you._

Tears threatened to spurt from my eyes, but I blinked them back.

"The child looks almost exactly like Her." I mused.

"She does," Meg agreed, "but does not sing. Heaven knows she was upset by the fact, crying everyday about how it isn't fair. She had a knack for acting ever since she was young, though. Pretend to be crying in order to get sweets from the company! However, she knew she lacked the voice to ever be able to act here."

"What the devil is she _doing_ here, then?" I asked impatiently.

_It is an Opera, for Christ's sake! You can't be at an opera and NOT be able to sing!_

"She is in the instumentals. Helps the orchestra in rehearsal, sometimes writes scores, teaches at the musical conservatory...plays piano, as well." Meg thought a bit, then continiued, turned twoards me in mild surprise, "You know, she may even be almost as good as you."

I snorted skeptically.

_Match MY skills? Never. I'd have to see this for myself._

"And I didn't give your letter to Monsieur LaNieve." she said, shaking me out of my thoughts. Why should I be angry at this? It really doesn't matter, I got my information, though the new 'owner' and that de Chagny girl...I may need to keep a close watch on them.

"That is alright, Madame Debeau. You told me all I wished to know. Good day to you." And with that, I went back into my column, back into the complicated maze that I called home.

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**_Shameless Begging:_** Like I said before, I'd really like some more reviews. They don't all have to be positive, I take criticizm as well. But I'd really like to know what people think of my stories, please!!!


	9. The Song

**_A/N: _**I do not own Phantom, only the OCs. Thanks for the encouraging reviews, guys! And yes, I understand Erik's 'age' maybe old, but as I have explained in an earlier chapter, he looks the same as he did in Phantom of the Opera. Enjoy! This is still Erik's POV. (Chapter's a bit lenghty, but it gets good!)

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I was irrationally fascinated with this girl. Why is she here? What makes her music that special? I don't like the disrespectful little child, of course, but whatever newcomer crosses the threshold of my kingdom, I must know about them. I proceeded to shadow her that day, a seemingly regular day for her. It didn't seen very out of the ordinary either.

She walked in through the doors of the opera house in the morning, holding a roll in her hand.

_How unprofessional._

She greeted everyone on her way down the hall, ranging from young actors to old stagehands. Everyone seemed to know her, and they were nice to her. She isn't shy, I know that much. One thing I found particularly interesting, however, was the fact that when she passed the ballet rats' rehearsal she bowed her head and hurried her pace. I also saw a few of them stare at her rather forbodingly, obviously Miss Perfect didn't cut it with them.

"Lizette!" One of them ran over to her, Meg's daughter, Daniela. They gave each other a hug, and engaged in one of those fanciful conversations so common to the female sex.

_Very droll, isn't she._

The de Chagny girl finally reached her destination, the musical/instrumental wing... the conservatory, in fact.

_Now, what would she be doing there?_

At once a red-haired boy, looking to be maybe eleven or so, ran up to her, giving her a hug.

"Elizabeth, you came!" he exclaimed, looking up at her excitedly.

"Yes, Jean, I did," she laughed, "I am covering for Clarice again today, she is ill. I told you you may be free to call me Liz if you would like, remember? Why so formal?"

"Very well, may I call you Lizette, then?"

"If you so wish."

"Before class, may I show you what I've been practicing? I think it is coming along well, personally."

"Of course, Jean. We have ten minutes or so, I believe, let's go."

Well, this seems a contrast from when _I_ met her...why is she so irrationally _nice_? The two passed other children ranging from very young to teenagers until they got to the empty practice room. She was right, class wouldn't start for a few minutes. I've seen a few of these, but my mind was mostly focused on the stage. People can be _good_ at an instrument, but I've never seen anyone with actual _talent_ besides me... besides the great few, such as Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach to name a few; no one around here, that I've actually heard with my own ears has anthing besides mediocre talents... but what Meg had said, that this girl may be able to match me, I had to witness. When will _she_ play?

The boy Jean picked up his violin and a music sheet, and began. The de Chagny girl sat listening intently, a wide smile breaking out across her face.

"Jean, that was wonderful. Very impressive for a boy your age." she commented. He smiled in return, thanking her.

_Wonderful?_ I wouldn't say wonderful. True, for a boy his age it is alright, maybe even _good_, but not _wonderful_.

"Would you like to accompany me in this? The piano is right here, if you'd like." he told her, gesturing twoards it.

"Sure, if you would like." she replied. I leaned in and listened closer, ready to judge even the first note she plays. However, just as her fingers reached the keys a crowd of children came through the door. Probably for morning lessons.

"Pardon me, but where is Madmoiselle Herier?"A girl who looked about thirteen or so with dark locks running down her shoulders asked.

"Oh, or course. She has taken ill, I will be filling in for her again. Do you all remember me? Madmoiselle de Chagny?" she asked. There was a murmur of yes's when the children went to a cabinet to get their instruments. Soon, there was a room full of cellos, two piano players, violins, clarinets, and flutes. The de Chagny girl waited at the front, and when they were settled and ready she passed out a sheet of a simplified version of Mozart's 4th Symphony.

"Now children, study it for a few minutes then I will hear each section of instruments play it. Then we will practice together." she announced, smiling. How does she keep smiling all the time? I can't even recall the last time I smiled...Just for the heck of it, I tried to. The curving of my lips felt slightly straining and a bit painful. I scowled at the silly notion I had.

_What has been coming OVER me?_

"Madmoiselle de Chagny? I cannot find my paper, I swear I just had it on my music stand..." a boy noted, looking around him.

_Of course you can't find it, silly child, I took it! _

Listen to me...triumphant over pulling something over a child...idiot...

I did gain some satisfaction, however, from the troubled look on the de Chagny girl's face as she said, "Oh...um...alright...I gave you one didn't I?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, well then...h-here you g-go..." she told him, looking around as she handed him the paper. I stiffened. Surely she couldn't think...I must be losing my touch...no, that's impossible...clearly, she might be more worthy a rival than the other idiots around here. But still...no where near me.

I waited a slow-moving hour-and-a-half while the children practiced and she helped them. I nearly fell asleep when I again heard the shuffling of feet, meaning the class was over. She gave one last sweeping look to the room, and left. I followed. She went back to the actual opera part, down to the orchestra pit. No body there was doing anything as rehearsal hadn't started, so she picked up a violin, until-

"Madmoiselle de Chagny, may I ask what you are doing?" the man who's violin she took asked.

She turned a very amusing shade of red, handed it back and mumbled, "I only wanted to try..."

"Go ahead, if you would like. But be careful."

She batted her eyelashes and smiled widely, "Oh, are you sure? I promise I'll be very careful!" He handed her the violin and she put it in position, and started playing a very choppy version of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star".

_Ugh._

She gave it back, laughing. "As you can tell, I'm not very good."

"It...wasn't _too_ bad."

_Yes it was!_

They both just laughed, when the ballerinas came onto the stage. One with straight, short, auburn colored hair went to the edge of the stage to the orchestra pit and looked down at the two.

"Excuse me," she sneered, "but if you are _done _socializing, we need to practice. Now!"

The de Chagny girl hung her head dejectly and walked over to the piano bench.

_No! You don't give up THAT easily, stupid girl..._

"Oh, ah, hello, Monsieur Blacke!" the auburn girl called. The de Chagny girl seemed to perk up at this- she sat up straigher, a smile lighting up her face.

"Hello, Odette." he smiled at the ballerina. Just then, the de Chagny girl leaped up from the orchestra pit and ran, with open arms, to the man they called Blacke.

"Thomas!" she called. He, however, caught her by the shoulders and held her an arm's length away.

"Not in public, Elizabeth." he whispered. "We'll talk later, and try to be more lady-like!"

"Oh...alright, sorry..." she whispered back; a little louder she said, "I'll just go back to the piano now...".

"No, I'm afraid this calls for strings _only_," Odette said in the same haughty demeanor, "so I don't believe we'll need you, with the way we heard _you_ play that violin- no offense, of course."

She turned helplessly to Blacke, who just suggested to her nochalantly, "Just go back to that score I had you working on, I suppose. I'll stop by soon." and he turned back to the ballerinas. The de Chagny girl, however, bowed her head once more and journeyed back to her room, tail between her legs. I wondered where the courage she showed me went, how a seemingly strong girl can turn into a submissive child. When she got back to the room- Her room- tears were running down her face quite strongly, but she wiped them away and sat at her piano bench, reading the sheet. She brushed her fingers on the keys- and began.

_Not bad..._

I was...caught off guard with it. Better than I expected- MUCH better. It was ingenious, really, for someone of that age. I see now what Meg meant; with more training, why, she might just measure up to_ me_. When she finished, she went on to expiriment with the rest. It ended so abruptly, like a book with the last page ripped out. As hard as she tried, however, she seemed like she just couldn't find the last page. She gave up., burying her head in her hand and mumbled,

"Two months and still nothing."She got up after about a minute and went over to a vast bookshelf I hadn't seen before and took out...what was it...it looked like a copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream, and began reading. I didn't pay much attention to that, my head was still unwillingly caught up in her song.

_Stop it! It's just a few music notes! Think normally!_

"Elizabeth, shouldn't you be working on your score?" Blacke walked through the door to see her sittingon her bed, still reading.

She hopped off of the bed and stood up straight, "Oh, well, yes, I was. But I got writer's block! I just decided to take a break."

"Rubbish- you were just scribbling little notes on paper, you can't get writer's block. That aside, I wanted to speak you you about what happened today."

"Oh?"

"That was both unprofessional and unlady-like of you. See to it, dear, that you behave more reserved in public. Odette was shocked by your behavior-"

"Odette?" she spat. "That ballet-rat?"

"Excuse you. That is extremely unkind. What did we talk about?"

"Manners." the de Chagny girl mumbled, glaring into space.

"Exactly! She happens to be a kind woman-"

"Who insulted me and make fun of me, right under your nose, while _you_ did nothing!" she shouted. Suddenly, Blacke's hand rose and grazed her cheek, and she clutched it, tears streaming down her face. I was again shocked, and felt a tiny bit of...what is that? Pity?

"I don't enjoy doing that," he said, irritated, "but you must learn to act in your place, and do NOT raise your voice to a man, especially not me."

"I-I'm s-s-sorry." she choked out.

_Sorry? SORRY? he hit you, and you apologize?!_

"I forgive you, I do believe you learned your lesson. I'm going to go now- goodbye." and he pecked her on the forehead and turned.

"I love you!' she called.

"Yes, yes, love you too." he said offhandly, going into the hallway. When he closed the door behind himself, I waited for the footsteps to die away. I couldn't hold back any longer.

"You are getting married to that?" I asked incredulously, my voice carrying through the room. She spun around, the fire I saw in her eyes rekindled. She looked around before calling out,

"Is it any of your buisness?"

"Feisty, are we?"

"What do you want, Monsieur Phantom?" she asked angrily.

"He hits you, doesn't defend you-"

"-But he loves me!"

"Are you so sure?" I challenged.

Her voice was a bit less sure when she replied with a meek 'yes'. I waited a pause before I went on,

"Your music wasn't bad."

"How do you know about that? Were you waiting in the room for me to come back or something?! Or were you following me?" she glared at the mirror, thinking I was behind it.

"Calm down, can't you just accept the ruddy compliament?" I shot back.

It was another silent pause when we both realized with that statment- I actually payed her a _compliament_.

"Why did you speak to Auntie Meg about me?" she retorted.

"Auntie?" I snorted.

"Oh, just answer the damn question!" she snapped at me. Temper, temper....

"Well, why did _you _ask Meg about _me_?"

"A stranger walks into my room uninvited and yells at me- you don't keep things like that a secret!"

"It isn't _your_ room!" I very nearly lost my temper as well, yet to my surprise, her face softened to one of understanding and she nodded knowingly.

"Right." she whispered.

I didn't respond- how COULD I respond to that? I just stood there in silence until she whispered in the same tone 'Goodbye' and walked back to her bed and resumed her reading.

_Yet another act of compassion twoards me...WHY?_

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**Hope you guys liked that one! Reviews and criticizms (ugh can't spell that word) would be amazing! Thank you so much for reading!**


	10. The Reflection

**_A/N: _**_Thanks for being patient,guys, I've had a lot of things on my plate these days... Anyway, on with the show! ...Or, erm...story!_

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Elizabeth's POV

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"Right." I nodded sympathetically. It really was still grandmother's room, and he must still see it that way...he loved her, after all. I can't stand in the way of that. He didn't respond to me, so I assume he left. I sat back down on the bed and resumed my reading, feeling my cheek; it still felt very raw and tender, but I probably deserved it, Thomas told me on more than one occasion not to raise my voice to him.

I kept repeating to myself, _It's only because he loves you. And you love him._

Oh, how hard I tried to be strong! I know I'm a strong person, but according to him, women must be submissive, and I will be...to him, anyway. The Phantom? If he wants to rouse a fight with me, oh, by damn, I'll give him one, and the same goes for anyone else. No one can beat me down...not since I left America. Not again.

_But...why had the phantom been watching in the first place?_

Why, indeed? I don't like him, and I don't like him butting into my buiseness. I understand that he loves her, so I'll consent to that, and I _did_ tackle him, so I had to attempt to help him up- it was the polite thing to do. But then again, it would also have been polite to accept my hand, which the egotistical man did _not_ in fact, do. I have to tell Meg...or Thomas...or somebody!

I checked the time on my clock- 23:00. To the ballet rats that partied with their stage-hands, it was early. To me, who was tired from the days' events, it was bed-time.

.............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................  
**(New Day)**

My alarm rang as I groggily opened up my eyes to the morning. I knew I would be staying the night so luckily, I brought Inconnu in his cage with me. Monsieur LaNieve had let me let him out to roam the opera, and most people loved him- a smarter feline was hard to find. It was as if he knew who liked cats and who didn't, because he would be positivley sweet to cat-haters and always want a cuddle from the lovers. He seemed to know good people and bad as well, for he would scratch Odette's ankles whenever she passed, or hiss at her when she tried to pet him. Most people just attributed to animals and how they have their favorites, but I was proud of my intelligent kitty. Sometimes, though, he would get confused, for at most times he hissed at Thomas when he came close, or ran away.

The strangest thing would be when he seems to rub up agains curtains or sometimes even, nothing. He would stare into the shadows or up into the catwalk for long periods of time before walking away. I had my notions, but....

_I almost forgot! I have to see Thomas!_

I remembered my-ah- expirience yesterday and immediatly set off, greeting various people as I passed. I don't know them that well, why should I not be nice? Besides, if ever a mishap, particularly with a certain snotty, buttfaced ballerina, it's good to have people on your side...

I saw Thomas walk through the door, yet he walked in with Odette. No matter- I made sure my curls and dress were in tact and walked up to him gracefully.

"Hello, dear," I smiled at him, and Odette gave me a strange, superior look that made my blood positivley boil. I roused myself to say a little something to her, but remembering last night, I just glared and turned back to Thomas.

"What were-"

"Good bye, _Monsieur Thomas_." she smiled at him, interrupting me. He gave her a smile and nod and looked back to me.

"Hello, yes?" he answered.

"What were you doing with her?" I asked, hiding the suspicion from my voice.

"Oh-um- nothing, nothing...just...walking her here..."

"You take your carraige here, though."

"Well...just don't ask questions!" he snapped at me.

"I'm sorry." I answered, giving a kitten-look.

"Whatever then, what is it you came to me about?" he asked.

"Oh! I forgot! It's very pressing, Thomas, can we go to your office?"

"Fine, if you insist." he rolled his eyes and we walked to his office. On the way I dwelled on the conversation to come, how would I tell him?

_Just hope he doesn't freak out, Grandmother told you what happened last time he was exposed. He doesn't need that again._

And nethier does the opera house, I told myself. It was closed for about three years after the incident, but reopened to a crowd who was happy to assume he died and they were safe.

The door slammed.

"Okay, what is it you want?" he asked me.

"Oh, well, something happened...and I didn't tell anyone...but...but it happened again, and I thought I should tell you about it..." and so I told him most of the stories, but left out the seemingly 'unladylike' parts. When I finished, he just stared at me blankly.

"........Yes, well, that was very amusing but I'm afraid I have work to do, as do you." he told me, getting up and walking twoards the door.

_Are you fucking kidding me!?_

"Wait, wait!" I called, grabbing his arm as he headed twoards the door.

"_What._" he sighed looking back at me.

"What do you mean, amusing?!"

"Well alright it wasn't that funny, but I'm glad you're actually being creative."

"Creative!?"

"You don't really expect me to believe that cock-and-bull story, do you?" he asked skeptically.

"I'm telling the truth!" I challenged

"There is no Phantom of the Opera! And if there was, I'm sorry to say that he probably wouldn't be very interested in you. You cannnot sing, nor can you dance! But I know and you know you are a very talented piano player, so maybe you should go practice. Now let go!" he wrung his arm forcefully out of my grasp and left the room. I stood there, frustrated while tears welled up in my eyes.

_You have to believe me!_

But then again, he did bring up a valid point. Why is he even paying any attention to me? I stood in front of the small mirror and observed myself. I generally looked like grandmother, but not when you actually break it down...her eyes were a clear, baby-blue color. Mine are a murky green-gray, but that wasn't a problem. People like my eyes, they aren't very normal in color. Her skin, also porcelain in color with red, rosy cheeks. I had rosy cheeks as well, but my skin was a darker shade, not the perfect white. Instead, it was a tan, olive-ish color.

My nose. My nose was the last difference. She had a perfect little button nose, where as mine had a bump, more of a roman nose, like my grandfather.

_Stop getting off track!_

Right. Off to Meg. I composed myself and headed in some direction, hoping to find her.

"Lizette!" I looked up to find the petite blonde that is Daniella smiling at me. She took a closer look, scrutinizing my face. "What is the matter?" she asked me.

"Nothing, nothing." I smiled waving her away. She grabbed my by the shoulder to stop me from moving, and looked at me skeptically.

"Right, sure." She answered. "Now, I'm not letting you go until you tell me what's wrong. Tell me or I'll...I'll...do something mildly foul to your music sheets!" she threatened weakly. She was never good at those. When we were growing up, she was always a bit of the sidekick, but where I would think of the 'big idea' she would add the logic and details to it... you could say we compliamented each other well.

_Should I risk it?_

What am I thinking!? Daniella would never tell anyone!

I sighed, "Alright, come with me, but I dunno if you'll believe me."

Once we were safely in my room, I told her what happened to me over the past few weeks, and by the end her eyes were wide.

"Did you tell anyone?!"

"Yes, I told your grandmother, and I also told Thomas, but he...he didn't believe me." I admited

"Oh, well, he's a jackass anyway." she shrugged.

"Excuse me!" I told her, affronted.

"Sorry, but, he is. Everyone sees it but you. But forget about that now- what are you going to do?" she asked.

"I _don't_ know! He's pretty much the one male I can stand up for myself to, but he frightens me somewhat. But at the same time he's an arrogant bastard, and yet... sometimes, when I am alone, I find myself vaguely wanting to talk to him... but ugh! He can't mind his own buisness!"

"Wow. I'm surprised you don't get a headache." she commented, eyebrows raised.

"To put it simply: I _don't_ like him." I answered.

"Oh, well, as long as he doesn't hurt you, I suppose it's fine..." she said hesitantly.

"Should I tell Auntie Meg?" I asked her.

"Yes. Yes you should." Daniella told me, relieved. She was never one to put in suggestions in serious matters, always too afraid her suggestion might go wrong.

"Alright, I'll do that right now," I smiled, "thank you." She hugged me and left the room, and after a few minutes I left as well. It was one in the afternoon, so I thought Meg must be at lunch, and as it turns out, she was.

"Auntie...may I speak to you? It is...probably serious." I said. Suddenly, I thought it might not be such a good idea. How would she react? Would she be angry with me?

_Too late to turn back now, kid._

"Sit down, no one's here. Go ahead." she instructed seriously. I again recounted what happened last night, and by the end she had her hand on her cheek.

"What is he playing at...not again... no, it's impossible..." Meg mumbled, as I suspect, to herself. Then, she looked up at me, "Didn't I tell you to stay away from him?"

"Yes, yes, but it isn't my fault! _He_ spoke to _me_!" I defended. "You know him?"

She sighed, and looked into my eyes, "Yes. And quite honestly, I regard him as a son- just as my mother did before me. A troublesome, reclusive, strong son. This is the first time since Christine that he's been interested in anything or anyone. I'm worried for the both of you. I'm worried he, in his impulsivness, will reveal himself again, but might not be so lucky this time. I'm worried that you may fall into his trap, though I don't think so, I don't think he'd do it, though. He really did love her..."

"I know," I nodded, "but I felt I had to tell someone, and Thomas didn't believe me when I told him." She nodded, perhaps too knowingly, and offered me one of her cookies. I took it, and went on, "I have a wedding soon, and I don't want this over my head!"

"Incidently, when IS your wedding, dear?"

"I...I don't know...every time I try to discuss it he would ethier change the subject or walk away... but soon. It will be soon."

"Mhm," was all she answered, looking away. She turned back to me, "Well don't you worry, I'll speak to him, nothing will interfere with your wedding." she smiled, patting my hand with hers. She left me alone with my thoughts, too many thoughts.

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_**A/N:**__** Sorry for such a long delay, but I'm trying very hard to keep a steady pace with this story but it isn't working out too well, but fear not! It will go on till the end! Thanks so much for sticking with it! Reviews and suggestions would be amazing, thanks!**_


	11. The Talk

_**A/N:**_ _I know it's been a long time...I'm sorry..._

**(Erik's POV)**

"Erik! Erik, where are you?" Meg called. She was looking about the room, trying to find me. But...she was in Her room... insolent woman!

"What are you doing in here?" I replied forcefully, still not revealing myself. She doesn't have a right to be in there. Nor does anyone else.

_Especially that little brat._

Ignoring my comment, she turned around, trying to find where I am, she responded, "Erik, I'll have you know I'm VERY dissapointed in you."

"And why would that be, Madame?" I asked, just a bit amused. I hadn't DONE anything naughty recently...

_Probably just because you're you. It's only natural._

"I think you know!" she scolded.

"Yes, the monsterous Phantom is ALWAYS up to no good, isn't he?" I replied savagely. "Can't just be innocent for ONCE, can he?"

"No, you know I didn't mean that." Meg said, more gently now.

"Then _WHAT_, pray tell, are you accusing me of?"

"Elizabeth came to me today... telling me of a certain someone who went into her room-"

"-It isn't her room!-"

"-And possibly FOLLOWED her... not again, Erik, don't you start again!"

A familiar shiver ran down my spine and I tried to shut away the memory that threatened to resurface.

_How dare she bring that up...how dare she even THINK..._

"I'm. Not. Starting. Aything. Never. Bring. That. Up. AGAIN!" My voice boomed through the room, coposing myself to my full phantomesque potential, and some fear finally got throught to her.

"Why did you attempt to speak to her again. Why did you follow her. Erik, please just answer me this." she pleaded. I knew I couldn't say no to that woman. She takes care of me, mothers me...

_And yet you continue to yell and threaten..._

_She deserved it that time._

"A new girl pops out of no where. In MY opera! Don't you think I should investigate? You told me her piano skills could rival mine. Don't you think I should study such a challenge?"

"And what DID you think of her piano skills?"

"They were...sufficient." I answered. I was probably tired. I couldn't have heard what I did.

"Hmm...alright."

"That man...that... _worm_... he hit her! Struck her across the face!" I spit out.

"What?" Meg asked, surprised.

_Obviously your precious little 'Elizabeth' left that part out!_

"She asked him what he was doing with another girl she saw him with. Not a far-fetched idea, I must say. And he hit her. Then SHE apologized! THAT is the main reason I spoke to her! She didn't stand up for herself at all!" I explained.

"So...so you were looking out for her then..." Meg said very slowly.

"Maybe, in a way, you could say so."

"Oh...well then fine, talk to her..but ONLY talk, understand me? Just make sure she doesn't get hurt."

"Yes, yes, yes" I waved off. Like I'm even going to do THAT much! I'm not talking to the de Chagny brat. But still, if it gets Meg off my back...

"Okay. Thank you, Erik. But remember my warning! I saved your life once...I just don't know if I could do it again."

The door closed behind her with a gentle slam.

,


	12. The Secret

_**(Erik's POV)**_

So...I'm to be this child's..._babysitter_... what in the world have I come down to?

_At least Meg's off my back._

I had requested that the manager doesn't let slip anything of me to the new owner... Idiot as he is, he wouldn't hesitate to use his power to do anything he can against me. But, wait...

_The de Chagny girl told him of me!_

The little brat can't keep anything to herself! Still, he probably doesn't believe her, the way he treated her. I wonder if it's just her, or if he's just a rude swine to everyone. I have time on my hands, maybe an hour or so could be spent checking in on him. I took my cloak and hat and set off across the lake to my buzzing opera house above.

He walked in the door, alone this time, giving his hat and cloak to the servants; he then proceeded to his office, with all the flambouyant and pompous strut that de Chagny portreyed all those years ago.

_Steady, now. No use making yourself angrier._

I was about to follow him through my passage ways when I realized..._I didn't have one here._

It must be a more recent instalation to the Opera House... hmph. Whatever, I didn't need to watch him shuffle papers for an hour. Just then I heard a knock on the door. Well, well, well, if it isn't the prima donna herself, Margurite Perrier. She looked to either side of her before entering, then stepped in the door. About half an hour passed and they both reemerged, with a seemingly forced calm air. They looked around, and she turned to him,

"So, Monsieur, I believe I'll be getting that role in the next opera?"

"Of course, dear. I believe you, ah, passed the audition."

"Merci, Monsieur Thomas." she smiled, kissing him on both cheeks. She walked off and he straightened his tie, then got back into the office. Besides that nothing much happened for at least a few hours, until he finally reemerged and set off down the hall. I followed him until he reached the stage, and stood in the right wing as the ballerinas rehearsed.

_No de Chagny girl in sight._

The child was probably sitting in her room trying to figure out the rest of her score- fruitless buisness for a little one such as herself.

Meowing.

I looked to my feet, and observed the tabby rubbing up against my leg through the fabric of the curtain. He stared up at me with his bright yellow eyes and I looked back with mine, and stooped down to pet him inconspicuously. I always did have a soft spot for felines...maybe a certain feeling of kinship.

"Hello there little one, Inconnu, is it?" I scratched the top of his head lightly, and he meowed again, purring loudly.

"Will _someone_ get that bloody cat off stage _now_?" an irritated voice called. Suddenly Inconnu turned hostile; his claws shooting out and fur standing up as he let out a loud hiss in the direction of Blacke as he picked him up by the scruff of the neck, while he pawed the air helplessly.

_Put the poor thing down and pick on something your own size, asshole..._

I got a rush of fury as he held he cat as if he were a pile of garbage.

"I got him, I got him! Oh can't you see you're hurting him? Put. Him. DOWN!" The de Chagny girl ran up on stage, taking the cat from his hands.

"Keep your filthy animal away from my performers." he said through gritted teeth.

"Animals ar cleaner than people." she challenged defiantly. It surprised me.

_Maybe she DOES have a mind of her own after all._

"Watch. Your. _Mouth_." he said through gritted teeth, face getting red. She gave him one more faltering look and left, holding the cat protectivly in her arms. She didn't reemerge after that, but another interesting thing _did _happen. A man in a dark overcoat and hat walked up to Blacke and whispered something in his ear, to which he nodded and the two walked off. I followed them to a small room in a small corridor which used to be used to store extra equiptment but was now abandoned with the installation of the new wing.

"I understand you told my superiors that you'd have the information?" the man was speaking English, but not without a very prominent French accent.

"Here it is, straight from Parliament itself." Blacke whispered back, pulling a thick, brown envelope from his coat and handing it over.

_How very curious..._

"No, you idiot! Can't you put it anywhere safer?" Blacke said harshly as the other man was putting the envelope into his bag. He then removed it and slid it into his undercoat, tipped his hat, and turned around.

"Ah, ah, ah, not so fast," Blacke grabbed his shoulder and turned him around again, "information such as this does not come cheaply, friend. I was promised...compensation."

"But of course, Monsieur." And with that he reached into the black leather bag and reached out a very sizable brown cloth pouch tied with a string and handed it to him. Black opened it and stared greedily inside, reached in, and pulled a shiny gold coin out.

"I must say, without this little trade of mine I might have gone broke a long time ago." he smirked at the money with a hungry expression.

_Well, I've seen all I need to see today._

Just when I thought he was just a rude idiot, he turns out to be a criminal, too! Do I tell Meg? No, why compliacate things when I can have a little more... fun... with the situation?


End file.
